


Sayaka

by aparticularbandit



Series: Character Sketches [3]
Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 21:19:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16462523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aparticularbandit/pseuds/aparticularbandit





	Sayaka

               All of her life she’d heard about heroes.

               _The black hands moved far too fast for her, grabbing her about the arms.  She struggled against their hold, twisting her wrist – there was a sharp snap, but she felt nothing – until it was free and loose enough to angle her sword in just the right way—_

               Most of them were men, knights in steel armor on white horses, but not all of them.  Her particular favorites were the fairytales where the heroes were random men – peasants or thieves, even – stepping out of their bounds for the women they loved, even when it meant sacrificing what they loved most.

               _The black dropped from around her, their thin wrists dripping shapeless red blood.  Her wrist, on the other hand, was fine._

_Just fine._

               Rapunzel, for instance, and her prince.

               _Dodge that arm, slice another one, jump back just out of reach with the sword facing forward and—_

               That poor boy fell and had his eyes pierced out by thorns.  When Rapunzel escaped and found him, her tears cured his blindness.  Then they lived happily ever after.

               **_THWACK._**

               Why couldn’t she have that?

               _Another arm entwined around hers; she cut it off, but that wasn’t enough.  More black arms swarmed her.  She was going to be needing to break that wrist again._

               But none of these even held a candle to the story of the smart ugly prince and the dumb, beautiful girl.  She’d heard it so long ago that she’d forgotten their names, but that was ok.  She remembered the story.

               Once upon a time, there was a prince born to the king and queen of some faraway land.  However, when he was born, he was cursed to be incredibly smart but forever ugly.  But this curse came with a blessing.  If he ever fell in love, then he could give the same intelligence to his girl.

               Years and years passed until, finally, the prince came across a beautiful young peasant girl.  Although the brunette was incredibly dull, she still fell madly in love with the prince.  The two were happy together.  When the prince told her of his curse and blessing, she revealed she had a similar one – she was cursed to be incredibly beautiful but forever dull.  The prince smiled at that and healed her.  In return, the girl healed him, and they lived happily ever after together – both beautifully intelligent and hauntingly beautiful.

               That’s what she wanted.  Reciprocation of some sort.  Of any sort, really.

               _No, better thought._

_She jumped high into the sky – higher, higher, higher – all of the arms reaching up and for her, but she was out of reach; they scratched at her bare arms, the white of her cape, trying to soil it with their blood and hers, but no matter what they did, it never showed.  Never._

_The ebony fingers dug into her skin like the hungry pull of zombies._

_Hah.  Zombies._

               The boy – her prince – she’d healed him.  It would only be right for him to do the same.  Perhaps it was the switching gender role – she couldn’t be the prince unless he was willing to be the princess, the damsel in distress.  No, it was different than that; she couldn’t be the princess until she stopped being the prince.  And she couldn’t be either unless she stopped being a magical girl.

               _At the peak of her soaring jump, she turned in midair.  There wasn’t a wall, not really, but her magic supplied one for her to jump off.  She heard a snapshot of music behind her as she flew just as quickly back towards the black, praying witch knelt on the ground ahead of her._

               Magical girls – she’d seen them as a special sort of heroine.  She didn’t have to be a princess; she had magic!  She could heal multiple people, herself least of all.  Kill the evil witches, protect people from their own suffocating despair; heal the boy, protect him from his overwhelming depression.  She’d be taking care of two birds with one stone.  People were, after all, basically good; they just needed a savior to help them out every now and again.  She would be that savior.  She would step up and, with magic, right every wrong!  It was worth putting her life on the line for that.

               And, of course, in the end she would get the boy.  This was a true love story.  His love was her reward.

               **_SLAM! Crackle.  Pop._**

_There was that dang wrist again._

               But he could never love her when she had a body like this.

* * *

 

               Sayaka dropped all too easily into the cradle of black hands, attacking and being attacked by them.  They welcomed her like a long-lost lover, smothering her within their seismic grasp.  But at least she was being held.  Even if she was dying, it fulfilled a deep-seated longing.  That crushing was only what she deserved for what she became, after all.

               One last breath of the dusky mint smell of this witch’s blood.

               _Mami, I’m sorry.  I wasn’t able to live up to your all-encompassing protection._

               One last breath to the sweet sleep of death.

               _I’m sorry you had to be here for this, Madoka._

               One last breath before oblivion.

               _I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you, Kyo—_

               The red in the sky was unsurprising.  Probably just spatters of her blood as she was crushed to dust.  Odd that she could still see it.  Odd that she could still think.  Really just an all-out odd situation.  Was this how it felt to die as a magical girl?  Feeling nothing but seeing everything?  Perhaps it didn’t hurt Mami so much after all.

               Then—

               The flashes of red she first assumed were just bright spots in her blackening view became sharp, needling, pointed.  The hands of charcoal fell from around her, a piercing spear surrounding them – a prince catching her, carrying her to safety.

               No.  Not a prince.  The opposite.  A fallen hero – like Hamlet to his insanity.

               _“There’s an easier way to make a guy you fell in love with yours.  Use that magic you worked so hard for.  Rush in there right now and break his hands and legs so he’ll never be able to use them again.  Make him totally helpless without you.  Then he’ll be yours…body and soul.”_

               She had to admit, it was tempting.  There was an unexpected ease to thinking about it while she was being rescued by someone so completely unlike her prince.  For all she knew, for all she’d done for him, for all he’d done for her since being out of the hospital, that wish was almost—

               **No!**

               As her feet touched the ground once more, Sayaka refuted the part of her that even remotely considered hurting Kyosuke.  To force his choice like that would be no good.  She wanted him to choose her because he wanted to do so, because he loved her, not for any other reason.  In fact, even as Hitomi was confessing, she hoped that he would deny the other girl, admit that he always loved her instead.  But with all the evidence – when he didn’t notice her there at school, he didn’t come to her, he didn’t even call to let her know that he was out of the hospital—

               No.  A savior didn’t act for the personal gain.  She acted to save others.  Mami-san had never acted so selfishly as she was thinking now.  She’d always helped without a thought for herself – even to the end!  She wasn’t sure she could live up to that, not with her lack of experience, her lack of potential, her lack of talent.  But she intended to die trying.

               …when did Kyoko get here?  …and what was that she was saying?

               The part of her paying some sort of remote attention must have said something before rushing off, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was.

* * *

 

               _The hands swarmed again, but she sped through them.  It was easier when she was paying attention, when the flow of battle flowed through her.  This was almost instinctive, and she drew some pleasure from the speed._

_There was the witch.  The girl kneeling forward, begging, pleading.  For what?  Death and despair?  Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing.  Then again, it didn’t really much matter if she understood or not.  She still had to be eliminated._

               Every story has a heroine.  A wide-eyed idealist.  A princess.  It wasn’t Sayaka’s fault that she wasn’t it.

               _Her sword hacked into the main corpse, chopping off the head with one single, simple stroke, and black and red both embraced her again.  Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew there was pain.  Right now she just felt exhausted._

_Slap-happy, really._

And slaughtering this hopeful witch was like destroying her own hopes and dreams and giving up in resignation.  This was the fate of a magical girl.  She was only giving up herself.

               So why did her despair feel tinged with so much joy?

               _“It’s really true!  If I just detach myself, I really don’t feel any pain!”_

_Not even when I lie._


End file.
